Play My Music
by LittleRedOne
Summary: A look into the lives of three people and what music means to them. Ginny. Dean. Seamus.


**A/N:** I haven't written for Harry Potter in forever and this was a piece to help me get back in to my characters a bit. Hopefully it's not too awful, I'm rusty in the HP category. Oh, the idea for this came from 'Play My Music' by the Jonas Brothers. I incorporated the idea behind the lyrics and how I feel about music into this.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any thing or any one familiar from the Harry Potter world.

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**Ginny**

Dancing. Singing. _Music_. My three favorite things. I've yet to find anything that makes me feel the way music does. Sure I loved to play pranks, fly around on my broom, partake in a Quidditch match. Heck, I even loved to cook after having helped mum out so many times. Nothing compares though.

Today was unbearable. All this post-war clean up was a messy thing to be involved in. Harry, Ron and other friends of mine were out there catching any remaining Death Eaters, bringing them in to be tried. At least Hermione took a different job then they did, she works with laws and all that "smart person" – as Ron calls it – type of stuff. So she's not out risking her neck anymore.

Even though the war is over I'm still unbelievably worried for my boys out there. They're hunting down Death Eaters. Sure, they've dealt with worse then a few stray Death Eaters, but Hermione's not there to make sure they're okay this time. I'm not there to make sure they come home each night. I sit and wait instead. That's where my three favorite things come in.

Immediately after shutting and locking the door to my room I move to the Muggle stereo I keep on top of my desk and turn it on. I cast a quick silencing charm on the walls and turn the dial as far as it goes, music blasting out at me as loud as possible. I revel in the sound before turning on my favorite song. The song's up beat, fast and friendly. My foot and hands start to tap, moving in time with the drums as the song begins. The singer starts and I sing along, knowing all the words by heart. My head starts to bob along. Before long my hips are moving. _This_ is what I love about music.

As I sing along everything just disappears. The worry for my friends, they're more then capable of taking care of themselves. The frustration that – even after the war - we aren't safe. The anger at the escaped Death Eaters. The fear that we'll never just live in a normal world with no murder, no torture, no kidnapping and imprisoning people and absolutely _no_ Dark Lords to start another round of war.

It's all gone. They're not important right now. All that's important is this song, the one after it, the one after that and so on. All that's important is this _music_. Music just does something to me. It hits me in a spot no one can touch. Everything seems right in the world, as corny as it sounds. Music can change any situation. If I'm too stressed or worked up, all I do is mentally sing a song, start to move to my silent beat and I'm off in my own world, where there's no stress. The chorus of the song starts now. It's even _more_ upbeat, if that's possible. And I take off in a flurry of movement.

_

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_

**Dean**

It may be the Muggle side of me, but there's nothing I love more then playing music. My mother loves music and that's something I definitely inherited from her. Apparently my father had too. When he left, he didn't leave much behind. One thing he did leave though is what came to be my most prized possession, his guitar. My guitar. Before I got my Hogwarts letter I had fiddled around with it a few times, strumming on the strings like I knew what I was doing. Before I had a real chance to do anything with it though I was finding out I was a Wizard and preparing to be tossed in to a world of magic. My first summer home was when I took a serious interest in the instrument.

I had found out there were different ways to end up being magical. You could have two magical parents, one magical parent or no magical parents. I knew for sure that I didn't fall in to the first category; my mum was far from magical. That left me to wonder though, was I a magical product of two ordinary people or had the father I'd never known kept a big secret from my mum? The thought eventually consumed my mind. Was my dad a wizard? I spent a lot of time that year wishing to know more about him, to know anything about him. Was I more like him then I ever thought? So when I returned home and found a dust covered guitar in the corner of my room, I threw my efforts in to perfecting the use of it.

That brings me here, walking from my flat to the club my band plays in. The only thing I've got with me is a pocket full of picks and my guitar, securely in it's case and attached to my back. That's all I need. That's all I ever need. I make my way inside – late as always – and go right up on stage, hooking up my guitar and adjusting my mic. The rest of the band sends me questioning looks, making sure I was ready. I nod and – after a short introduction – our drummer counts us in.

I smile as soon as my fingers start to play the familiar chords. I get lost in the sounds of my band. I can play the songs by heart and find myself easily getting lost in the songs each time we play. I close my eyes and concentrate on the sound of the drums, steadily setting the beat. I hear the other instruments, picking each one out of the sound, each blending perfectly. This is what I love. You can take so many things, sounds, all so different, and make it beautiful. I open my eyes and see the crowd jumping around to the music, the regulars singing the lyrics along with our singer. I smile and take a deep breath, ready to add my vocals to the background.

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**Seamus**

"Another down here," I call down the bar before finishing off my mug. My new mates echoed my request and we were soon starting in on our fourth drinks. I was in a Muggle pub, one I'd never been to. I make a habit of checking new ones out when I can and tonight was a good night to. The so-called mates I was sitting with were a group of blokes that happened to have had the only open seat next to them. We got talking and here we are, buying each other rounds and having a good time. I grin a lopsided grin as I hear a certain song coming out of the jukebox. "I love this one!"

"What one?" the guy next to me asks, grinning back at me though he had not idea what I was talking about. I don't answer. Instead I sing along.

"What would you do if I sang out of tune? Would you stand up and walk out on me?"

The guy grinned, joining in. "Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song and I'll try not to sing outta key!"

"Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends!" he continues with out me.

"He get's high with a little help from his friends," I shout, laughing. He grins at me.

As the song continues more and more people join in. The verses are sloppy and you can tell it's a bunch of drunks singing it, but I couldn't care less. This is what I live for: a drink, some friends and a good time. The night carries on and before you know it I'm hosting an impromptu karaoke festival. I'm running the jukebox, playing all my favorites, everyone singing along.

I can't even imagine what it'd be like with out a good song to entertain myself with. I'll be the first to tell you I'm a horrid singer, but put a few drinks in me and I don't care. Singing is fun, it gives me a little thrill to get singing in front of all these strangers, knowing they're bound to join in sooner or latter. Not even just here, any party can be brought to life with a good sing along. Music is the key to entertainment for me. And I know it is for others too. And I set out to my different bars just to bring the fun of karaoke.

I grin as I find the perfect song to select next. Once it starts playing I turn back to the crowd gathered around. I breath in deeply, ready to sing my lungs out.

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**A/N:** For Seamus' part here they were singing 'With a Little Help From My Friends' which I have stuck in my head from watching Across the Universe. So I don't own those lyrics. :)


End file.
